


Together Forever and Ever

by Nejinee



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Birthday Sex, Blow Jobs, Come Swallowing, Dirty Talk, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Humor, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, happy birthday bucky barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 02:54:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18065231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nejinee/pseuds/Nejinee
Summary: It's Bucky's birthday and if Steve can just get over his own paranoid shenanigans he might be able to celebrate with him.





	Together Forever and Ever

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my main boi, JBB. Written for your 102nd birthday.  
> Love you, big guy. *kisses fictional character on the lips*

Steve looked at the clock again, chewing his lip. Where were they?

He walked back to the living room window and looked out over the street. It had been a cold night and the previous week’s slush had partially melted and then frozen over, creating sheets of ice all down the road. He watched a mom walk her two toddlers down the sidewalk, all three of them wiggling and waving their arms wildly to keep their balance.

Steve’s gaze flicked to every person and car.

No sign of them.

 _It’s fine, everything’s fine,_ he thought.

Sam had shown up bright and early to get Bucky out of the house so they could go train in the park. Something about monkey-climbing and sprints had been mentioned but all Steve had heard was Bucky’s very loud grumbling and complaining. He needed this, Sam kept saying. Needed to keep his body moving so his brain doesn’t fizzle out.

Steve had helped Bucky get into his jogging pants, socks and runners, perhaps paying a little too much attention to Bucky’s needs. Bucky had eyed him quietly, sensing something was up, but Steve had stood up and helped Bucky to his feet, wishing him well on the icy tundra of Brooklyn.

They’d been gone for almost four hours.

Even for them, that was an extensive workout.

Steve tried many times to squash the thoughts of his two best friends getting kidnapped and tortured while he sat on the sofa sipping his orange pekoe and reading the Sunday morning paper.

What if, while he’d been chuckling over the latest editorial and dipping a ladyfinger into his tea, Bucky and Sam were being murdered in cold blood? What if he’d already lost time and they were hidden away in some evil lair. What if Hydra had reclaimed their mighty soldier? Steve rubbed his hands together, the dryness of his palms the only sound in the empty house.

He glanced at his phone. Bucky hadn’t taken his, being a regular in the neighbourhood, he didn’t care so much about Steve messaging him during his workouts. He always snarked at Steve saying things like, “You only message me to say we ran out of grapefruit, or protein shakes. I am not your delivery man, Rogers.” Bucky wasn’t worried most of the time. He liked to flex his muscle on local hoodlum roughs so he got his practice in, minus his cell phone. Besides, Sam had his phone, so why worry?

Steve was worried now.

He contemplated phoning Tony and asking if he could get Sam’s coordinates, just this once. He’d get a real ribbing and poking from Tony, guaranteed, but the genius superstar would eventually capitulate and hand over the details.

Steve shook his head.

No, he couldn’t. Not yet. Invasion of personal privacy was very high on both Bucky and Sam’s Do Not Want lists. It was bad enough knowing Tony had the know-how to get the info, even if it was locked by SHIELD intel tech. And if Tony couldn’t hand it over, Steve always had Natasha. She would always be his last resort. She was the be all and end all of every op. She was the finisher, the cleaner, the one who would always do what no one else would, or could do. It is something of a remarkable trait, Steve found, to be completely free of moral quandaries on the appropriate occasions. Natasha was warm and kind and soft in her own way, but her Black Widow history would never be erased and Steve wasn’t really mad about it, especially if she wasn’t.

But he couldn’t just hack Sam's phone.

So maybe they got kidnapped by AIM and were being strung up by their arms and legs. Sam had his Redwing control band on at all times, so that’d be a saving grace. And Bucky was an elite covert operative trained in braining skulls and fucking shit up. God help anyone for pissing him off on a quiet morning too. He did not take well to sudden routine changes. Being picked up by the bad guys would count as a very severe breach of Sunday morning protocol and would be swiftly dealt with.

Right?

Of course.

Yes.

Steve had nothing to worry about.

He paced from the living room to the kitchen and back again, his bare feet tapping gently against the hardwood floor. He ignored the periwinkle coloured box sitting on the kitchen counter, pride of place. He’d gone out a few days ago to buy a small cake display stand and once Bucky and Sam had headed out, he’d pulled it out from the cleaning supply cupboard and placed his gift inside, sitting the glass dome over top.

He should be out there, hunting down villainy, but instead he was fretting and flop-sweating about his two friends, clad in his pyjamas. He hadn’t even brushed his hair yet.

It was almost noon.

Bucky was dead.

Sam too.

Steve huffed deeply, his chest expanding as he came to a halt. His fists clenched and he swallowed, trying to slow down the eventual meltdown currently going into effect.

How would he do this? Should he even bother with the Cap Uniform? He should call Nat. He should assemble the others. What was the point in being one of The World’s Greatest Superheroes™ if he couldn’t hunt down and murder his boyfriend and best friend’s killers?

Steve clenched his jaw. He would avenge them.

He paused, then blinked.

Huh.

_Avenger._

That made sense for once.

He shook his head. “This is ridiculous,” he murmured. Because it was. There was absolutely no indication that either Sam or Bucky was in any way harmed. He was overreacting and it was a bad look. He stomped over to the kitchen and began unpacking supplies.

Plates, cutlery and napkins with little round balloons on them. He’d bought ahandful of candles, pinstriped in varying colours.

He pulled out a lighter, then a backup lighter in case he busted the first one in his meat slab hand trying to fire it up.He stared down at the plastic things. Last time he’d used a dinky lighter instead of matches had been the reason Bucky invested in a home fire extinguisher as well as home insurance. “We’re strong bastards, but we’re not fire-proof!” Bucky had yelled while the smoke alarm screamed overhead.Steve did not want a repeat of that embarrassing incident, thank you very much.

It wasn’t his fault that the twenty-first century was composed of petroleum by-products, plastic and poly cotton. Lighters were not well made, like stupid water bottles and car horns: fallible and dumb. That was his argument, anyway.

His worst enemy, according to Sam, was the dreaded ketchup bottles sitting on diner tables across the globe. Steve was wary of them now, having inadvertently squirted streams of red paste up many a wall and across many a ceiling. Sam joked that the diners probably didn’t even wipe up the mess, instead choosing to put up a plaque or two: _“Untitled Ketchup #33 - SGR”._

Steve looked over the measly supplies and nodded. At least he was prepared this year.

Twelve months ago he’d been busy being airlifted out of Lithuania after having parachuted into foreign territory infested with land mines and a secret Hydra cell hell-bent on breaking Europe into two discrete chunks via explosive tectonic devices.

Steve closed his eyes and sighed.

Bucky and Sam were fine.

They were not being tortured like James Bond in that one movie where his balls were literally being busted.

Steve loved Bucky’s balls too much to consider it.

He opened his eyes.

A beam of sunlight had moved through the room and was now lighting up a small creature curled up on Bucky’s gym bag.

Steve smiled and put the lighters down.

He walked around the counter and over to Alpine, Bucky’s other one true love.

The cat was dozing, eyes mere slits in his pristinely soft face. Steve crouched down and stroked his thumb over Al’s forehead, just the way Bucky did.

Alpine opened one eye fully, peering at Steve warily.

Here sat the one thing Bucky had chosen to bring back from a mission.

A surly, jumpy but sweet cat who loved Bucky and Bucky only.

Steve’s mouth crooked as he surveyed Al’s sleeping spot.

Bucky had left his stinky gym stuff on the bench, probably hoping Steve would do something about it.

Steve looked over at the ornate, fuzzy-covered cat _thing_ that Bucky had ordered online and had delivered a few months back. It was a treehouse of sorts, specifically built for Alpine the cat. It had tiers of soft pouches and cuddly nooks and crannies for the cat to fall asleep in and yet, time and time again, the cat forwent the fancy cat mansion and chose to sleep in the weirdest spots available. He’d once fallen asleep in an empty, previously used cereal bowl left behind by Bucky. Another time, Steve had come home to Alpine fast asleep in the sink, or on top of the fruits in the wire fruit basket.

More than a couple times a week Steve found Alpine snuggled up on Bucky’s pillow, snugged in between Bucky’s hair and the headboard.

Alpine was a strange cat, but a good one.

“Hey, pal,” Steve cooed down at Al. “You think Papi’s doing okay?”

Al made a purr-whine sound and closed his eyes, clearly deciding that Steve was overreacting.

“Yeah,” Steve sighed and stood up. “I know,” he murmured.

He considered doing the laundry but in his state that would mean stripping the bed, digging out the many socks that got trapped behind their dresser and probably an attempt would be made to move Alpine so as to get to Bucky’s gym clothes, but that was the way of madness.

So Steve sat on the sofa, ramrod straight and waited.

He contemplated death, destruction and murder. He wondered how his life would go from here on out. Would he move? Would he be able to mourn? Would he go insane? Only time would tell.

He didn’t have to wait long.

Sounds from the hallway had him come back to alertness.

He’d been about ten-seconds away from donning the Cap uniform and razing the streets of Brooklyn to find their corpses, when he heard Sam’s voice.

“Worst day!” Sam was crying. “Worst day of my life!”

Steve leapt to his feet and ran down the hall, twisting to the staircase and barrelled downstairs to meet them.

Alpine dashed past, apparently far more alert than he’d appeared.

At the bottom of the stairs, Steve paused.

“Fuck, you’re so annoying, can you help a _little?_ ” Bucky was saying. Steve could see his outline through the frosted glass of the door.

Steve yanked it open.

“Oh, thank Jesus,” Bucky sighed.

Steve blinked and stepped back, mouth falling open. “Wh-what happened?”

Bucky ambled his way awkwardly into their foyer. It was difficult because he had two armfuls of Sam Wilson.

“Terrible!” Sam wailed, kicking his feet and wincing. “I just had the worst day ever, Rogers. Fuckin’ kill me.”

“Oh shut _up_ ,” Bucky growled, twisting to kick the front door shut. “You’re being a big, fat, baby.”

“Wha-” Steve trailed off.

“He slipped on the ice,” Bucky grumbled, trying to kick off his sneakers.One came off easy. The other got tossed down the hall to the laundry nook. Steve heard a dull _thunk_ as it hit the wall.

“I didn’t _slip_ ,” Sam griped, face a moue of displeasure. “You fuckin’ pushed me.”

“You shut your lying mouth,” Bucky retorted. “You slipped on some ice and twisted your ankle, dipshit. Ain’t my problem your bones are made of dried spaghetti.”

Bucky hefted Sam higher in his arms. He twisted about and headed for the stairs.

“Put me down!” Sam griped as Bucky ascended, slowly and awkwardly with a very muscular hero in his arms.

“I said shut up,” Bucky said.

Steve followed them upstairs, listening to the bickering, and feeling his heart grow bigger with every gripe. Bucky could barely fit, Sam’s feet knocking into the wall, and one time, his head.

“Did–” he said once Bucky got Sam upstairs and was no longer hemmed in by the narrow staircase. “Did you carry him all the way back?”

“I can walk,” Sam said loudly. “He’s just being an ass.”

“Yes, I carried this ungrateful sack of crap all the way home, from across the other side of Brooklyn, no, wait, _Canada_ ,” Bucky said. He turned, Sam squirming in his arms. “He ain’t light.”

Steve smiled.

Bucky was funny and he knew it. Steve was well aware of what constituted ‘heavy lifting’ for Bucky. It usually ran along the lines of ‘subway car’ or ‘Jewish guilt passed down from mother to son’. Bucky was a funny, but also very, very strong guy.

Steve had a flashback to Bucky holding him up easily against the laundry nook wall while he railed him (lovingly). There had been a couple times where the wall hadn’t even been necessary. Fondness filled Steve’s chest.

He stared at his two best friends, both of them firing off jabs and insults all while Bucky stood there, back straight, arms out, holding Sam like he weighed nothing. Because of _course_ Bucky would carry Sam home. He wouldn’t call a cab, or even Steve, to come help. He just would have figured _what the hell_ , and hoisted Sam up, in public, and hauled him home like an angry gator he found on the sidewalk and wanted to take home as a pet.

Steve could imagine the looks they’d received, Bucky stomping down the street, Sam kicking and swearing up a storm.

Steve smiled and approached them.

“How’s your ankle?” Steve cut into their bickering like a firehose through a volcano.

Neither Sam nor Bucky responded, choosing to snipe some more at one another. Sam protested any more movement, so Bucky twisted and hauled him over to the living room sofa, dropping Sam onto it unceremoniously.

Sam didn’t pause in his insults.

“I coulda walked, you ass,” he repeated. “I’m not an invalid.”

“We tried that, and you failed,” Bucky said, clapping his hands together and stretching out his arms. “Oh, Jesus, my elbows.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sam said, “better go oil that one. Some WD-40 might fix it.”

“I’ll fix you,” Bucky said with a wide grin, fist raised playfully. His metal arm rippled as if amused as well.

Steve cut through them again and waved Bucky off so he could inspect Sam’s foot.

It was definitely hurting, judging by the swelling.

So he played nurse for a while, getting Sam’s shoes and socks off and applying a tension bandage. He gave Sam some painkillers and decided he would take him home once the swelling had gone down a bit.

Sam grumbled some more about insufferable soldiers, but agreed.

This didn’t exactly ruin Steve’s plans, but it did put a slight crimp in his day.

He’d been planning to take Bucky to lunch, come home for maybe a lazy blowjob and a nap, before taking him to a show, followed by a massive seafood dinner.

Steve packed away the medical supplies and then quietly slipped the other party supplies away too, thinking they could wait.

 

* * *

 

 

Steve dropped Sam off, helping him up to his apartment and making sure he could manage.

By the time he got back home, Bucky was already showered and in a pair of black sweats and one of Steve’s old hoodies.

For someone so big and who took up so much space in a room, Bucky still managed to look soft and rumpled.

Steve’s heart warmed as he watched Alpine curl up on the back of the sofa right by Bucky’s head.

He pondered his next move, then acted.

He pulled out the party supplies as quietly as he could while Bucky was distracted by the TV remote. Usually on Sundays they watched recorded episodes of all the law and crime dramas Bucky loved. Today would be no different. Routine was good for Bucky.

Steve hastily set everything up, swearing as the first lighter crunched a little in his hand, burning his thumb. While sucking on it, he pulled out the spare and lit the candles.

He carried the supplies out into the living room and when Bucky looked up, Steve couldn’t help smiling at the surprised look on his face.

“What–” Bucky breathed, confusion in his eyes.

“Happy Birthday,” Steve said and set the small cake down on the coffee table. Alpine perked up and eyed the cake.

Steve pulled out a fish-shaped snack and slid it to Al, hoping that would take the cat’s interest for a moment or two. Al was prone to walking on food. Food that was aflame probably wouldn’t be good for his pink toe beans.

“It’s…my birthday?” Bucky breathed, eyes wide.

Steve looked up, surprised. Oh no. Had Bucky not remembered?

“March 10th, 1917,” he said.

Bucky blinked.

“That’s a lot of candles,” he murmured. He eyed the fire extinguisher for a moment and Steve rolled his eyes. Okay, sure, the small cake probably shouldn’t have a ton of flaming candles crammed into it, but he did what he could.

“Quickly,” Steve murmured, creaking down onto his knees on the other side of the table. “Blow them out.”

“Before you burn our home and neighbourhood to the ground?” Bucky said.

“Just do it, Barnes.”

Bucky acquiesced and leaned in to huff out a deep breath, blowing out almost every candle in one go.

The last one was stubborn and refused to go out. Bucky leaned over, hands on the table, and blew again. The candle went out and Steve smiled, face close to Bucky’s.

Their eyes met and Steve leaned in to peck Bucky’s lips. When he pulled back, Bucky’s eyelids had dropped a little. Then he licked his lips.

“You want your birthday present?” Steve rumbled, smiling.

Bucky’s eyes flared brightly. “Does my present involve you coming over here?” he patted his own lap.

Steve laughed, “Maybe. But you must be _so_ tired after being the big strong hero today.”

“Maybe,” Bucky tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “But maybe that means I definitely deserve a present?”

“Perhaps,” Steve nodded. He got to his feet. “Unless you want to eat cake?”

“Is that a euphemism?” Bucky asked, eyes raking over Steve. God, neither of them was even dressed up for this day. “Because if so, then yes. Yes, please.” He licked his lips and leaned back. Alpine got up, carrying his snack over to the pile of dirty laundry Bucky had left after his adventure with Sam.

Steve walked around their small coffee table, then gently pushed it away from Bucky, making room.

Bucky shifted in his seat as Steve got back down on his knees, shifting Bucky’s knees apart.

“What would you like?” Steve murmured. “Birthday boy gets to choose.”

“Like, I get to choose one thing?” Bucky asked, “Or is there a list? A La carte?”

“Well,” Steve sat back, “I booked us a table at your favourite seafood restaurant. Other than that, we’re open all day for activities.”

He reached under the sofa to Bucky’s other _other_ secret hiding place for weapons and pulled out a small clipboard with a piece of paper attached.

He gave it to Bucky like it was no big deal.

“Activities,” Bucky said drily, considering. His eyes roved over the list Steve had typed up. Each list item had a checkbox beside it. There was a tiny pencil, clearly pilfered from their last trip to Ikea.

“Dinner is at seven,” Steve added, tapping an item about three quarters of the way down the list.

“Do I gotta dress up?” Bucky asked.

Steve shrugged, “Not if you don’t want to.”

“So what you’re saying,” Bucky’s hand stroked along his own thigh, his sweatpants already starting to tent a little. “Is we got time…”

“For whatever you want,” Steve purred.

Bucky’s hand moved and stroked over his crotch. Steve’s own dick swelled at the movement. He watched Bucky press and massage himself through his sweatpants and felt his own body flush.

Bucky read over the sheet, considering.

Then he plucked the pencil free and proceeded to check every single box all the way down the sheet.

Steve swallowed.

Bucky tapped the pencil against the clipboard, glanced at Steve, then smiled. He scribbled something at the very bottom of the list and drew in a square beside it.

Steve leaned in to read it, but Bucky pulled it away, choosing to tuck the clipboard into the back of the sofa, between him and the wall.

“Well, then, Rogers, I believe item number one for my _birthday_ is _this_.” He pushed his hands down his thighs, tugging the cotton fabric tight over his erection.

Steve smiled and leaned in.

 

* * *

 

Bucky was the luckiest motherfucker on earth. He really was.

Watching Steve suck him off had been heavenly. Steve was very good with Bucky’s dick. He treated it so nice, licking and suckling and kissing it.

He was _very_ lucky indeed.

Then Steve had eaten cake with him, joking and giggling like a fool, and then let Bucky eat him out before coming all over Bucky’s neck and face.

The shower that followed involved a lot more manoeuvring and Bucky did get his dick inside Steve which was always his favourite place to be. So that was nice.

Then they’d taken an ‘old man nap’ and Bucky had felt at one with the universe for once, and not like the frayed and unchecked electrical wire he usually was.

Steve had conked out easily, sleeping peacefully beside him.

Bucky looked him over, his best guy.

Steve slept like a sack of rice, usually passing out where he fell, not moving until morning.

Unlike Bucky, who slept like a starfish hopped up on caffeine, Steve barely moved, getting a good six hours every night.

Even now, in the lazy afternoon light, Steve slept like the dead.

Bucky looked at those dark eyelashes pressed against Steve’s cheek. His hair was getting long again and Steve would probably cut it within the next week. Bucky liked it longer. It reminded him of old times. Steve would always push his bangs out of his eyes with his right hand, regardless of how they were falling. Old habits.

He had forgotten his birthday again.

Honestly, it didn’t feel all that important to Bucky, to mark the day he came into the world. He had so many ‘firsts’ in terms of waking and starting over, that they all kind of merged into one morass of pain and suffering. So to go back to his origin and celebrate it, well, it had gotten lost in there.

He didn’t remember his early birthdays. Steve had said things about his ma and his sisters and cakes and celebration. But Bucky didn’t have any of that in his bruised and battered and poorly welded-back-together brain. All he had was Steve.

Steve had bought him a teeny cake with a fire hazard as a topper and a blowjob as a finisher.

He gently ran his thumb over Steve’s cheek, then down to his lips.

Such pink lips for such a pale guy. Steve’s summer freckles had faded months ago. Winter had droned on and on and _on_ and Bucky had already forgotten about those freckles, just like he’d forgotten about his birthday.

Was it possible to love or be loved _too_ much? Bucky considered that all the time.

Surely not everyone loved the way they did? Steve’s unrelentingly stubborn overtures were probably only endearing to someone as fucked up as Bucky.

But Steve was his and if nobody else found his crazy passion appealing, then all the better.

Steve shifted, his eyes opening a little.

“Mm’Bucky,” he murmured, cheek smushed against the pillow.

They were both in their underwear, having chosen simplicity before flopping onto their bedspread.

“Hey, pal,” Bucky said.

“Yer alive,” Steve hummed and scooched in closer.

Bucky paused, arm coming to settle on Steve’s waist. He tugged Steve closer.

“Yeah,” he said softly, heart aching.

“Thought you were dead,” Steve muttered. “You ’n’ Sam. Hydra.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched.

God, would they ever be free of the torment of Hydra? Would either of them ever just be mindfully safe and fulfilled by a sedentary existence? Was that possible?

“I’m here, baby,” Bucky breathed, pulling Steve in closer and closing his eyes.

 

* * *

 

Dinner went as fabulously as Steve had hoped.

Bucky ate a barge-load of crab and lobster, followed by a bucketload of his favourite chocolate ice-cream.

The waiter had been more than happy to serve them as the bill ratcheted higher every time they ordered more dishes.

Steve left a whopping tip and took his very happy, very sated boyfriend home with him.

“You know,” Bucky said as they entered their home. He tugged off his coat and scarf and threw them at the coat hook rail Steve had installed on the wall.

Steve made a face and went over to pick them up, used to Bucky’s carelessness with clothing.

Normally he’d gripe about it, but it was Bucky’s _birthday_ , goddamnit.

“What?” he said.

“Sam didn’t have to go home after our workout,” Bucky continued and toed off his boots. His suit was tailored and fit him beautifully. It was black, trim and paired with a black shirt and tie. He looked beautiful. “He coulda stayed for cake.”

“Yeah, he could have,” Steve murmured, hanging up his own coat and scarf.

Bucky watched him take off his own shoes and line them up beside the wall.

“But if he’d stayed…” Bucky said, making Steve look up. He knew that tone. “You wouldn’t have been able to lock me indoors and sex me up as a distraction.”

Steve rolled his eyes, “A distraction to what?”

Bucky shrugged, “I dunno, life?”

Steve laughed, a sharp barking sound. “I don’t need to distract you from your life and existence, Bucky.”

“But if Sam had stayed, would you have been licking my balls on our sofa in front of him?”

“Jesus!” Steve flushed red, “No!”

Bucky grinned and pulled himself onto the staircase and began heading up. “You sure about that?”

Steve frowned and followed.

“Are you saying you want Sam in on our sex life?” Steve said.

Bucky shrugged. Steve followed him through their house. Bucky paused to pet Alpine before veering off to the bedroom. He was already stripping himself of his fancy clothes.

“Not really,” Bucky said, spinning to look at Steve, hands yanking at his own tie. His jacket was long gone.

Steve got distracted by Bucky’s hands. Bucky unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his warm skin as he went.

“I just thought maybe there’s a little exhibitionist in you, somewhere.”

Steve sighed, shucking his own jacket and undoing his cuffs before his own shirt. “If there is, he better get out, cos I’m already taken.”

It took Bucky a moment to get the joke, then he laughed, smile breaking across his handsome face.

He was shirtless and sitting on the bed, tugging at his socks. He flicked them away before unbuckling his belt, then unfastening his pants.

Steve just stared, enjoying the mini show going on. It was artless and not even remotely performative, but it was Bucky, so Steve couldn’t help staring.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, walking closer.

Bucky snorted and shoved his trousers down, kicking them off. When he looked up, Steve was right in front of him, shirt open, eyes dark.

“You are,” Steve said, nudging at Bucky’s knees before settling down on Bucky’s legs.

“Oh, hi,” Bucky breathed, feeling the weight of Steve on him.

“You’re the most beautiful person on earth, inside and out,” Steve said earnestly, holding eye contact. He shrugged his shirt off the rest of the way and didn’t miss the slight inhale from Bucky.

Bucky’s hands settled on Steve’s ass and pulled him in tighter, their crotches lining up heavily against one another.

“Steve…” Bucky hummed, cheeks pinking.

“You are,” Steve pressed, leaning in to kiss Bucky. They necked for a good while, Bucky’s hands kneading at Steve’s ass.

When Steve did pull back, his breath was sharp, his desire peaking. “I love you so much, it hurts.”

“I don’t want it to hurt,” Bucky said, licking his lips. Steve rolled his hips and Bucky’s breath caught. “Oh, baby, you’re so big.”

“Happy Birthday, Buck,” Steve purred and reached down to unzip his trousers.

Bucky rolled them onto the bed and made hasty work of getting Steve naked.

“Oh, sweetness,” Bucky drawled and crawled over Steve, his boxers bulging, the tip of his cock peeking out. “Best birthday present is always you.”

“Well, I didn’t get you anything else,” Steve laughed.

“You got me a cake,” Bucky hummed, licking a stripe between Steve’s impressive pecs. His pressed his hands to a pec each and squeezed. God, they were such hefty handfuls it was amazing.

“I was…” Steve huffed, “I was gonna bake it, but ran out of time.” He watched as Bucky stared down at his chest, his hands kneading and pushing and playing with Steve’s tits.

“God, I love these babies,” Bucky hummed, licking his lips before leaning in to suckle on Steve’s left nipple. Steve groaned and writhed, nerves zinging. Bucky licked and circled Steve’s nipple with his tongue, then switched to the other nipple, so as not to play favourites. Bucky suckled and licked and tweaked Steve’s nipples until Steve felt like they were on fire.

Bucky pulled back and surveyed his work. “You’re all pink,” he smirked, rubbed Steve’s pecs some more. “Your tits are _perfect_ ,” he pushed at them, squeezing them closer together. “Oh, yes.”

Steve flushed, always torn when Bucky treated his pecs like breasts. It was a helluva turn-on and not something he thought he’d like, but then life was full of surprises, wasn’t it?

“Did we check off every item on the list?” Steve asked.

Bucky looked at him and pushed his hair behind his ears. He sat back on his haunches and seemed to consider.

“Well, I got my sofa blowjob. I got to lick your ass. You came on my face, always love that. Uh, shower sex. Hmm. We didn’t get to floor sex though, did we?”

Steve laughed, “No, we did not.”

“Maybe in the morning,” Bucky waggled his brows. “I still want to suck you dry, though.” He said this with a dip in his voice, the rumble reverberating over Steve. “You know how much I love your cock all jammed up in my mouth.”

“ _Bucky,_ ” Steve’s faced flamed.

“What?” Bucky scooted down the bed. “I love it, okay? I want this,” he tapped at Steve’s hard cock with an index finger. “Want this big boy in my mouth. Can I?”

Steve scowled, “Do you honestly expect me to say no?” Did he look _insane?_

Bucky shrugged, “Hey, consent is sexy, babe.”

Steve had a retort on the tip of his tongue that was drowned out by a hand flexing around his dick. “Oh!” he huffed out as Bucky rubbed him.

“Hmm,” Bucky mused. “You definitely need release. Even after two orgasms earlier, huh?”

Steve’s breathing hiked up as Bucky bent low to suck at the head of Steve’s cock. Bucky suckled and hummed around him, clearly enjoying the texture and flavour of Steve in his mouth.

Bucky liked having his mouth on Steve, didn’t matter where. The shower was the worst place for it. So many times their shared bath time devolved into Steve sobbing against the tiles while Bucky sucked him dry, a couple fingers fucking into Steve. The man was a _fiend_.

Bucky pushed Steve in the rest of the way, creating a plush warm and wet tunnel for Steve to hump into. Steve wasn’t one for having his face fucked, but Bucky seemed to enjoy the whole experience. He moaned around Steve, pulling Steve’s legs open, folding his knees so he could lie flat and almost choke on Steve’s huge dick.

Steve trembled and shook, the experience always a bit much for his heightened senses. Bucky would break him into pieces and pull him back together every time. It was an addiction, Bucky’s mouth.

“I’m gonna, I’m– _Bucky!”_ Steve squeaked, reaching down to tug Bucky off before it was too late.

But Bucky pushed his hands away and just doubled down, bobbing his head and feeling Steve’s dick pulse between his cheeks.

Steve tensed and made some unearthly gasping noise as he came quite forcefully.

Bucky pulled back and sucked at him, sucked at his come, swallowed it down.

Steve was a shivering, shaking mess by the time Bucky pulled off.

“Oh my God,” Steve gasped, hips twitching. Bucky ran a thumb over his lips and grinned, not looking away from Steve.

Bucky looked so big and so perfect, sitting between Steve’s limp legs. His broad shoulders and big arms took up so much room it was dizzying. Steve could stare at Bucky forever. He could take his time, if he wanted, to memorize every curve, every angle.

Bucky would let him, too.

Because Bucky was selfish the same way Steve was. He’d allow Steve to ogle and press and lick him all over, so long as he got to do the same back.

They really were a little crazy, Steve thought, but it worked out. Mostly.

“You got one more in you, Mister Captain America?” Bucky laughed, crawling closer. His muscles rippled and Steve’s stomach did backflips in his gut.

“I always do,” Steve gasped, chest still heaving.

“We got one more position, right?” Bucky purred and leaned in for a kiss. Steve could smell himself on Bucky. They kissed, tongues playing, voices rumbling in appreciation. Steve got a hand in Bucky’s underwear and squeezed. Bucky gasped.

“This for me?” Steve said, lips against Bucky’s. He curled his fingers and tugged.

Bucky’s breath caught and he stared right into Steve’s eyes, eyelids heavy. “Uh huh,” he said gruffly.

Steve pulled at Bucky’s dick, heat pooling in his pelvis again. The serum really _was_ a wonder. “What's the last position, birthday boy?”

Bucky seemed distracted, just breathing in time with Steve’s tugs. “Huh?” His eyes rolled.

“Your list,” Steve purred, kissing Bucky’s lips. “You want inside me, don’t you?”

Bucky’s eyes opened. “Yes.”

“You want to slide this big guy deep inside me?” Steve said with another tug that had Bucky gasping.

“It’s my birthday after all,” Bucky smiled slowly, cat-like.

“Then how do you want me?” Steve asked.

Bucky groaned and nodded, pulling away. “Okay, let’s figure this out.”

He spent the next minute manhandling Steve into the position he’d had inside his head. His underwear got removed somewhere along the way. Good riddance.

Steve’s back was pressed to Bucky’s chest. They were both on their knees, facing the headboard, Steve’s legs bracketing Bucky’s.

Bucky held him steady with one arm, the other strokingover one thigh.

“Like this,” Bucky breathed into Steve’s ear. “I just wish we had a mirror so you could see yourself all spread out for me.”

“Your ego, I swear,” Steve huffed. He curled his arm up, grabbing at Bucky’s hair. Bucky kissed at his bicep and hummed.

“Look at you,” he said, hands roaming over Steve’s hips and belly. Steve’s muscles flexed and Bucky hummed some more, appreciating the ripples. “My big guy.”

Steve could feel Bucky’s dick sliding under his ass, just tapping at the back of his balls.

“You feel that?” Bucky asked. He squeezed Steve’s pecs.

“Yeah,” Steve said. “You got the lube?”

Bucky paused.

“Ah, fuck,” Steve dropped his arm, slumping a little.

Bucky pushed away and scrambled over to Steve’s bedside. “Where is it?” he asked, then dug through the many books and miscellany Steve kept on his side of the bed. “Where did we use it last?”

Steve sat back on his calves and smiled.

He watched a naked Bucky crawl all over their bed, digging around under the mattress and inside drawers.

Steve smiled so wide his cheeks hurt.

“Check under your side of the bed.”

Bucky pouted but did as he was told. He dangled his torso off the side of the bed, naked ass and legs all Steve could see. God, he really loved this fool.

“What the hell?” Bucky said and rolled back, a box in his hands.

He glanced at Steve, confirming.

Steve nodded.

Bucky tugged at the simple ribbon holding the lid on, then opened it up.

His face lit up.

“Oh no,” he said, lips curling into a smile. He pulled out a wavy-looking blue dildo and a velvet bag of goodies. “For me?”

“Or me,” Steve shrugged, still embarrassed by the purchase. He’d had to go inside the store to get it because Bucky would definitely notice a purchase from “Queens Paradise Cove” on their credit card and would absolutely investigate.

Bucky pulled out a fresh bottle of lube from the pouch.

“Here we go,” he murmured.

Then he paused, “You want–?” He waggled the dildo.

“Uh, well, we don’t gotta tonight.”

Bucky nodded, and placed the object back inside the velvet-lined box. He slipped the gift onto his bedside with a pat before turning back to Steve.

“All right, soldier,” he snapped. “Back on your knees, let’s go.”

Steve did as he was told, excitement rippling through him as Bucky prepared him for his cock.

He didn’t need much stretching or anything, but the slippery slide of lube always had him wriggling in anticipation. Bucky lubed himself up along with Steve. Then he got to work with his fingers.

Steve had to actually get on his hands and knees for easy access, but after a few minutes of Bucky’s fingers, they deemed him good to go.

So Steve kneeled upright, pressing his back to Bucky’s firm body.

His legs were nicely spread so when he felt the head of Bucky’s cock sliding between his asscheeks, his leg muscles quivered. Bucky’s arm held him up.

“Here we go, baby,” Bucky whispered into his ear. Bucky pushed around with his dick before he found Steve’s entrance, then, tilting his hips, he pushed in.

Oh, that sweet slide was always Steve’s favourite moment. Feeling Bucky’s cock filling him up, sliding home, it was everything.

He groaned and shifted his hips.

Bucky pulled out, steady and strong. Then he pushed in again and Steve gasped.

“You’re so big, Buck,” Steve breathed.“ I want to sit on your massive dick all day. I want you inside me all the time, Buck.”

Bucky chuckled, “Now who’s talking dirty?”

Steve just moaned in reply, his legs shaking. Bucky let him drop a little until Bucky was fully seated, right up inside Steve.

They sat like that for a moment, joined together.

“I fuckin’ love you,” Bucky kissed into Steve’s neck. “And your ass.”

Steve smiled. His own cock was back at attention, bobbing in front of him.

Bucky pulled out, then shifted and slammed home.

He kept at it, pumping in and out of Steve, jamming his cock up inside him, mixing him up, grinding against Steve’s prostate until Steve was barely coherent.

Steve was only held upright now by Bucky’s metal arm. His legs were as wide as they could go with Bucky fucking into him from behind.

Bucky grunted, hips shunting forward. “Come on, baby,” he gasped. “Come for me.”

“No, you come for me,” Steve replied breathily.

Bucky chuckled and gasped.

“Oh, I already came for you. Hunted you down until you were mine. Isn’t that how it went?”

“Hmm,” Steve’s head lolled back and he grabbed for what he could of Bucky’s ass. “I’m hazy on–on the details–”

Bucky sped up, his hips slapping into Steve’s butt. Steve gave up trying to pull him in and instead went for his own cock, leaking and red and bouncing with every thrust.

“Oh God, yes, touch yourself, Stevie,” Bucky gasped. He watched as Steve wrapped both hands around his own cock and jerked himself off. “You’re so wet, baby,” Bucky licked at his skin, clearly watching Steve’s dick slide in and out of his big hands. “That massive dick of yours is making a mess. You’re so messy. _Fuck.”_

Bucky shifted his hands to Steve’s tits and held him up that way.

Bucky’s cock dug in deep, slamming into Steve over and over just the way he loved, until Steve felt Bucky faltering, hips shaking and he knew Bucky was close.

“Come on, Buck,” Steve leaned into him, head back, hands working on his cock, showing himself off. “Fuck me. Come deep inside me. Fill me up all the way.”

Bucky groaned, pressing his face into Steve’s neck, hands squeezing Steve’s tits hard. _Oh, wow._

Then Bucky came, his massive cock hot and wet inside Steve.

Steve jerked himself faster, breath completely out of rhythm. He spurted come all over their clean bedspread, only stopping the flow with one hand. The mess of come dribbled down his cock and Bucky rumbled deep in his chest. He held Steve tight against him, filling him up until Steve could feel a wetness dribbling down his thigh. What a feeling.

Bucky relaxed incrementally before sitting back, Steve lolling against him.

“Best birthday ever,” Bucky whispered.

Steve’s breathing slowed until they were both listing to the side.

Bucky sat upright, holding Steve still.

Bucky kissed at Steve’s shoulder, his neck, his ear. “You okay?” he asked.

“I’m fabulous,” Steve grinned.

Bucky rubbed his palms over Steve’s nipples, then down his abdomen. When his fingers found Steve’s spent cock, he hummed. He held Steve for a moment, then released him.

“I think that was the best sex we’ve ever had,” Bucky murmured.

“Better than Switzerland?” Steve said.

Bucky pondered that. “Yes.”

“Wow,” Steve chuckled. “Impressive considering Switzerland involved a lot more acrobatics and foreplay.”

Bucky shifted.

Steve felt a hand trail around his hip and down between his cheeks, to where he and Bucky’s bodies joined.

“Fuck,” Bucky said quietly. “I don’t want this to end.”

He shifted his hips, making his cock swirl a bit inside Steve.

Steve shuddered, feeling like fireworks were spitting inside his brain.

Bucky paused. “Yeah?”

Steve breathed for a moment. Then his swivelled his hips, testing. More fireworks.

“Oh wow,” Steve gasped. “Okay. Uh. Yeah.”

Bucky’s cock was definitely getting harder inside him. What the hell, serum?

“Fucking best birthday,” Bucky gave an experimental push, “ _ever.”_

 

* * *

It was long gone midnight when Steve awoke to Bucky shifting. He turned over, bleary and sexed out.

“Whassup?” Steve burbled, flopping to face Bucky.

“Just,” Bucky was holding the clipboard with the list on it. He scratched at something with the teeny pencil. “Almost got it all done. Just one last one.”

“Merh,” Steve humphed and let his eyes fall shut. “H’pp b’erday Buck.”

Bucky put the clipboard down and shifted, scooting in beside Steve. He pulled Steve close and they settled into a comfy slumber. The clipboard stayed on his bedside until morning. Sunrise lit upon the paper and its perfectly printed list.

Under the typed up list, a pencilled ‘x’ was scratched in beside the finalhandwritten task.

It had been labeled ‘stay together forever’.

 

 

 


End file.
